Say It
by MidKnight Rider
Summary: I had a request for a Sam Jack Happy future fic. This is what the Muse decided to do
1. Chapter 1

They stumbled in the front door of the house already locked in a kiss and trying to see who could get the other's Class A jacket off the quickest.

"Say it," Sam insisted in a brief pause for necessary oxygen before his mouth, hot and wet, sealed hers again.

Jack's hands were sliding over the front of her uniform, lingering on the bars and stripes that told the story of her career. As he worked the jacket off her shoulders he said,

"Nope."

"Yes!" But her demand was muffled again.

His mouth was so sweet and it still tasted vaguely like champagne and chocolate cake from their celebratory dinner. They'd both had too much to drink and opted for a cab home. His truck was still at the officers' club.

He got the jacket off her shoulders as she was walking him backwards towards the couch.

"Say it, say it, say it," she chanted as his knees hit the couch and he sat down abruptly. Jack laughed, opening the front of her white dress shirt. Sam pushed the jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. She let him lean forward just enough to shake it free and then she tossed it over the arm of the chair.

"No, no, no, no," he sang back.

The cushions on either side of him dipped as she straddled him, kicking off her shoes, one knee on either side of his hips and her body bare inches from his lap. He had enough of her blouse open to find a very sexy, very nonmilitary white lace bra under it; which meant that under her skirt there was a matching pair of white lace panties and garter.

So sexy…_God…_

Her fingers were working the knot in his tie.

"Next you'll want me to salute," he huffed.

"You _are_ saluting," she said, slipping lower and wriggling in his lap until it took his breath away.

Jack laughed, took his tie out of her hands and slung it around her neck, using it to bring her mouth down to his.

"Come on," she said, lips brushing his. "Say it. You know you want to."

"Do not," he murmured.

She parted her lips to kiss him but he turned his head away at the last moment to zero in on the tip of her breast and suck on it through the silk and lace. She gasped and writhed and groaned.

"You. _So_. Do," she panted.

Jack looked up into the gorgeous blue eyes that were so close to his he figured she could see right into his mind. He grinned wickedly.

"You only have one title I like to use, _Mrs._ O'Neill," he said, just before he finished peeling off her blouse.

"Not the one I want to hear," she answered, making short work of his shirt, pushing it off and down to his elbows until she got to the ribbed tank under it. "Jeezus, Jack, do you have to wear so many layers?"

Jack was too busy working on the zipper of her skirt to immediately notice the critical way she was eyeing his undershirt. By the time he did, it was too late.

"Carter," he said, warningly.

"Say it," she demanded again.

"No," he repeated stubbornly, "and dont you _dare..."_

Ignoring him, Sam yanked it out of his waistband, got the bottom of it in both fists and pulled, hard. Fabric tore as she ruined another perfectly good ribbed tank.

"Will you _quit_ that!" He hollered, but then a moment later he was groaning because she was kissing and nipping and sucking her way from his throat to his chest.

She sat up and blinked at him innocently.

"Not _that,_" Jack protested. "You can keep doing that."

"When you say it," she answered, wriggling again.

Jack groaned but now she was working at the buckle on his belt and the fly under it.

"Fine," Jack grumbled.

She kept at it until she realized he hadn't said anything. Then she stopped, put her hands on his shoulders and waited.

His hand cupped her face, drifted down her neck and slid over her breasts just above the lace.

"_General,"_ he growled.

Sam laughed and her skin flushed a deep shade of hot pink. Jack sat up straighter and pulled her into his arms.

"Brigadier _General_ Samantha Carter-_O'Neill_." He went on in the same growling purr, unfastening her bra and helping her slide it off her arms.

Sam laughed again in a soft, breathy way.

"That wasn't so hard was it?" she asked, running fingers through his silvery hair.

"_That_ wasn't," he said, lifting his hips up to make a point.

She draped her arms around his neck and leaned forward for a kiss.

"I still outrank you," he murmured against her mouth.

"Uh – retired," she said.

"And yet, _outrank_."

"For now."

"Oh so _that's_ how it's going to be?"

"You better believe it. It's _on."_

Sam started to laugh in earnest then and he couldn't help it. He joined in and they were laughing even as he pushed forward and dropped them both onto the floor.

She was so beautiful wearing nothing but her uniform skirt and stockings and whatever treasure was hidden under that. There was a little smile on her face that said she had plans for the evening and there wasn't a thing he was going to be able to do about it.

He had a feeling he was going to like this promotion, a lot.

(0)


	2. Chapter 2

Pinning her hips between his knees, Jack knelt up and wrestled with the cuffs of his shirt, wondering the whole time why they always got so turned on when they had on clothing that was almost impossible to shed quickly. While he was doing that, Sam – in her quick, precise, military/scientist way – had opened the front of his trousers and wrapped her fingers around him. Cotton boxers and all. She squeezed, pulled, and Jack said warningly, "Sam."

It only made her grin and look much too smug. "Not tonight," she said, "What are you supposed to call me tonight?"

"God, you are such a little..."

"What?"

Jack laughed, because she was sweet and hot and sexy as sin and he wanted her so, so badly.

Because she was _Sam, _no matter what else she wanted him to call her.

"General," he finished, and concentrated on his shirt, finally managing to get his hands free of the cuffs and shrug out of it. He left on the torn tank shirt. It looked like it was getting Sam seriously worked up.

Sam chuckled and stroked him, moving the fabric of his boxers up and down as she did.

"I thought _this_ was the little General," she said.

"Little?" He huffed, trying to look affronted and failing. "Woman, you haven't been paying close enough attention."

"Woman?"

"Oh, fine." He bent over and began worshipping her skin with his lips and tongue. _"General_ O'Neill. General Ooooh-Neill."

Sam was shaking with laughter, gasping and moaning at the same time. Then he knelt up, scooting down to work her tight little skirt off her hips and down the long, long legs he adored. The panties and garter didn't disappoint and suddenly Jack could barely breathe. She had the attention of every cell in his body. She was absolutely the hottest thing he had ever seen in his life and he wanted to screw her into the floor.

"Get your pants off," she ordered.

"Yes,ma'am," he said, in a voice of mock deference.

She watched him strip with hot, hungry eyes. He had just gotten his last sock off when she tackled him and sent him tumbling over onto his back. She straddled him, grasping his wrists in a tight hold and pinning them to his sides.

Jack had almost forgotten that she knew a little bit about physical combat. He twisted one hand free and used it to pull her head down so he could kiss her. It started as a tease and quickly escalated into a you-are-so-_mine_-even-if-you-are-on-top kiss.

Sam was into it too, giving back as good as he gave.

"Is this how it's going to be now? You on top?" Jack asked just before his mouth went to work on the skin below her ear.

"You never minded me being on top before," she said.

"I think I should show you who still holds rank here," Jack threatened.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah."

Jack surged up, caught her around the waist and flipped them both over in a single, smooth motion that knocked the wind out of her for a moment. He trapped her wrists in one hand and held them over her head while the other hand smoothed over her body in long feather-light strokes. Sam gasped, groaned and at last stopped laughing.

He pressed down and Sam was all soft skin, firm and pliant at the same time; lean muscle; heavy breasts crushed against his chest. Sam struggled playfully for a moment, more to rub against him than to protest. He smothered another laugh with a decisive kiss.

"Jack," she panted. "Jack_, damn_, please…"

At first he thought maybe she really did want out from under him so he moved off a little. But all she had wanted was to get her legs free from between his so she could wrap them around him. At no point had she stopped to remove panties, garters or nylons. She wriggled again, arched up and reached down to move the thin strip of fabric between her legs out of the way. She had him halfway inside before he knew what was happening.

Sneaky little…_General._

Off-guard and focused entirely on the way her body felt around his cock, hot and wet and tight, the next thing Jack knew she had turned the tables on him. With a deft, forceful push of her hands, he was flat on his back again, staring up at her as she settled down, taking all of him with her eyes closed in sensual bliss. Her hands were on his chest for balance now and he understood that this was what she had planned all along. Any thought he had of changing positions again fled. His chest and stomach and thighs tingled with warning and he tried to clamp down on it.

Sam whimpered a little bit and then it changed to a low, sexual purr and Jack almost lost it. Then she was moving on him, hips rocking as she panted and rocked, just the way he liked, just the way he always wanted her to. She started to moan without stopping, wordlessly, like she was going to die if she didn't come, and soon.

It was impossible for Jack to hold back, not with her doing all that. He let go, pushing up, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise and he couldn't help it because it was _Sam_ and it was spectacular.

He was shuddering through aftershocks and the implosion of shattered nerve endings when he realized Sam was coming. Her body froze for an instant and then she was shaking like mad, convulsing on him. Jack reached up and pulled her down into his arms, holding her through it. He kissed her neck and shoulders and felt the strain in her muscles. He knew how good it was. He could hear it. So could the neighbors, probably.

When she finally quieted down, he let her collapse onto him, exhausted and content. When she finally lifted her head to look him in the eyes he almost laughed again because she had a kind of goofy smile on her face and her skin was flushed hot pink and her hair was sticking up.

"What?" she asked, seeing something in his eyes.

Jack smiled, rolled them both over onto their sides and wrapped her up in his arms and legs.

In his best French accent he purred, "Nothing, _mon Général_."

Sam pretended to inhale as if she was stunned.

"Tish," she said, starting to kiss him from his jaw to his neck to his shoulder. "You spoke French!"

Jack snorted, chuckled deep in his chest. He brought one hand up to pick through her tousled hair. She kept kissing down his arm until she reached the bend in his elbow and had to start back up. She didn't stop when she got to his mouth and Jack wanted to tell her that he was probably done for the night. If she wanted a round two he was going to have to plead age catching up with him or something….

But he was too busy kissing her back. His hands reached for her again. His arms wrapped around the slim waist. Sam kissed him with such yearning, such absolute love.

All right, he thought. There were plenty of other ways to make her moan and shiver, to make her cry his name and wake the neighbors again.

He loved her and he wanted her. He wanted her so much it sometimes made him crazy.

When she broke off it took him a moment to refocus. Sam was rolling off him, sitting and then kneeling.

"What?" he asked, dazed.

"Bed sound good to you?" she asked. "Or do we want to stay out here until you get rug burn on your ass again?"

Jack huffed out a breath of laughter as he sat up. "Bed sound very good."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "You're not sleeping. I'm not done with you yet."

She grabbed his hand and hauled him towards the bedroom. Jack followed, bemused and besotted.

"I love you, General O'Neill," Jack said.

She grinned as she shut the door, put a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him towards the bed.

"I love you too, General O'Neill," she answered.


End file.
